


The Purchase

by Masterweaver



Category: RWBY
Genre: Gen, Post-Volume 6 (RWBY)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 14:45:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17603318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masterweaver/pseuds/Masterweaver
Summary: Blake and Weiss go shopping.Well, Blake goes shopping. Weiss is along for the ride.





	The Purchase

Atlas was many things. Elegant. Educated. Exemplary. Enormous.

It was not, however, evenhanded.

Blake had of course known this. She’d never been to Atlas herself, but she’d heard plenty of stories from the other members of the White Fang. Back when she’d been in the White Fang... back when it had existed. Of course, knowing something and experiencing it were far different things. Even when she kept close to her human friends, she couldn’t help but notice the eyes that shifted suspiciously toward her. The parents, oh so gently, nudging their children closer. The quick double-check of pockets and purses, just in case something went ‘missing.’

It wasn’t blatant. It didn’t last very long. The people always seemed to reassure themselves, within seconds--oh, she couldn’t have been there if she wasn’t a Huntress. Ironwood would have arrested her on the spot, if she wasn’t clean. She wasn’t one of Those Faunus.

The discomfort built up, though. The knowledge that, at one point in her life, she had been one of Those Faunus... even if she never took it as far as Adam--

_\--the haze cleared, and he was gone, fallen to the river, and she had done it, blade tainted with blood, red like his sword, forever--_

She shook her head, swallowing back the bile. That... wasn’t the point. She hadn’t gone out alone since they arrived.

She couldn’t go out alone.

Maybe it was wrong, but... well. It was what it was.

Which meant, unfortunately, she would need the help of somebody else if she was going to accomplish her goal. Somebody to go out with her.

The fact that this somebody might actually have a clue where to go and cut down her wandering to a minimum was a thankful bonus.

* * *

“And you’re sure this is the way?”

Weiss rolled her eyes. “Yes, Blake. I’m sure. For the  _fifth_  time, I’m sure."

“I’m sorry.” Blake rubbed her arm, ears folding back. “I’m just... nervous.”

Weiss glanced at her sympathetically. “...you know, I could--”

“No,” Blake said firmly. “I... it has to be me. My money.”

“I wasn’t going to offer to pay. Just... negotiate a better deal, if--”

“No. I appreciate it, but...”

She trailed off, not quite meeting Weiss’s gaze.

“...right.” The other girl nodded, eyes forward. “Anyway, my chauffeur used to speak highly of this shop. Back when... when I was younger. I hope it hasn’t changed too much since then.”

Blake chuckled. “A shop for limos. Do you really think they’ll sell--?”

“Even if they don’t, I’m sure they can point us in the right direction.” Weiss reached for the door, but paused for a moment.

“Weiss?”

“...I’m sorry, the irony of this entire situation just hit me. The ex-heiress of the SDC is about to open the door for the princess of Menagerie.”

Blake snorted. “I’m not a princess.”

“Better princess than I would have been. You’ve actually fought for your people.”

“So have you,” she reminded her quietly.

Weiss smiled faintly for a moment. “Mmm.” With a flourish, she took the door’s handle and opened it. “Shall we, lady Belladonna?”

Blake huffed in amusement. “Don’t do that.”

She stepped into the shop, and instantly took note of the gazes pointed at her. Discerning gazes, from store clerks and shops, taking in her appearance. They didn’t change, even when they took in who stood next to her.

The message was clear. This place wasn’t for her. She must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. She’d be leaving soon enough.

“Is it like this everywhere?” Weiss murmured quietly.

“...only in some places. One neighborhood in Vale... the Mistral midslums.” Blake cleared her throat. “This is actually... moderate.”

Weiss took her hand. “Alright. Let’s make this quick, and get out of here fast.”

Blake nodded, striding to the information desk. The clerk behind it lowered her glasses, as if to check to make sure they weren’t broken.

“Hello,” Blake said politely. “I was wondering... do you know where I could buy a motorcycle?”

* * *

“There was no need for them to be so rude,” Weiss huffed as they left another store.

Blake shrugged. “I’ve seen worse.”

“They were brusque, dismissive, and utterly unhelpful!”

“A vehicular hobby shop isn’t exactly a place to buy performance motorcycles. The models they have are for rebellious rich teenagers, not cross-country huntresses, and when they realized we wouldn’t buy anything...”

Weiss gave her a flat look. “Are you making excuses for that poor example of a salesman?”

Blake’s ears folded back. “...Weiss... I don’t want to cause a scene.”

The girl opened her mouth, paused, and sighed. “...I’m still leaving them a two-star scroll review.”

“Oh, by all means.”

“Honestly, I knew Atlas was bad, but... I never saw this before.” Weiss's voice dropped. “Then again, I was always the Schnee heiress before... Maybe if I had more, ah, faunus friends growing up... I would have seen more of this.”

Blake looked over her, taking in her despondent expression. “...I don’t know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means... it means, there are a lot of humans who have faunus friends, and still don’t see this. It’s never directed at them, and they don’t like thinking that there are bad people in their town, serving their coffee. So they don’t... notice.”

“They deliberately ignore--?”

“No, it’s that they don’t notice in the first place. The cues aren’t obvious. Even the sympathetic ones...” Blake bit her lip. “Even... well, you know when Cardin was pulling on Velvet’s ears? Back at Beacon?”

Weiss nodded. “It seems like so long ago, now...”

“Yeah. Pyrrha said she was disgusted by people like him. Yang said it... had to be difficult, to be a faunus. But... neither of them got up to help.” She held up a hand, forestalling Weiss’s protest. “I’m not blaming them. They just didn’t know what to do. But that’s the issue, not knowing what to do... not knowing what’s going on, not knowing what to look for. That’s how stuff like this persists, even when people acknowledge it’s wrong.”

“...I suppose,” Weiss murmured, her face still unsure.

“What I’m saying is...” Blake paused, considering her next words with great care. “What... I’m saying is, even if you did have faunus friends, if they weren’t willing to call this out for you, you can’t be entirely blamed for missing it. Now you do have people who will, and that means that you’re more aware. Which means you can be better.”

“Hmm.” Weiss said nothing more for a while, simply walking down the road. After a bit, she cleared her throat and pulled out her scroll. “Well. While I’m composing my scathing review of that shop, why don’t you check the tram schedule? I have a feeling that we may want to go to the rimward districts for our little excursion.”

Blake smiled wryly. “Maybe even all the way down to Mantle.”

“I hope not, honestly. Getting a motorcycle into a cable car would be a hassle...”

* * *

Thankfully enough, there was a motorcycle shop two blocks coreward of the airdocks. The owner looked up at them and groaned. “Oh, gods, not another Weisser...”

“I’m...” Blake blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Not you, her.” He waved his wrench at Weiss. “Look, having a celebrity crush is fine, but dressing up like her is just kind of nuts. Look at you, you even have the eye scar makeup!”

Weiss scowled. “This scar is real!”

“It’s off-center, girl, don’t try to fool me.” He turned to Blake. “Sorry about that, crazy people in this shop sometimes. You know how it is.”

Blake quirked a brow. She turned to Weiss, who was looking indignant, and back to him. “...Sure. Anyway, you sell motorcycles here?”

“Sell, buy, repair, make, whatever. Let me guess, your Weisser friend tried to take you to the high-falutin’ shops first?” The man shook his head with a wry laugh. “Yeah, coregineers are all about the flash. Tech’s great, man, but they just stick together in whatever way looks coolest without thinking about performance. I mean, have you seen the specs for the Colossus?”

“Actually,” Weiss said, “we’ve seen it in person.”

“Riiiiiight. Point is, that thing has a number of design flaws. The cannon alone... yeesh.” The man shrugged. “Showpiece. Does its job and looks great while doing it, but pit it against anything that’s not a Leviathan and it’d probably go to pieces in, what, twenty minutes?”

“Sounds about right,” Weiss said, her tone somewhat proud.

Blake rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, you have bikes built for performance that I’d like to look at?”

“Yeah, maybe we don’t have all the bells and whistles, but you know what we’ve got? Reliability. Endurance. Efficiency.” The man walked over to a door and opened it. “Come on, let me take you back.”

Blake’s nose crinkled as they entered the garage, rubber and oil assaulting it before just as quickly fading to background scents. Weiss momentarily halted behind them, before exhaling and stepping quickly afterward.

“What,” the man deadpanned, “place too dirty for ya?”

“...Just unexpected,” Weiss replied flatly. “Then again, so’s finding desiccated corpses in an abandoned farmhouse.”

“Yeah, horror stories are the worst.”

“No,” Blake clarified, “that actually happened.”

The man looked at her incredulously. “...what, you serious?”

“Yes. We’ve led an interesting life.”

“Huh.” After a moment, the man shrugged. “Whatever, must have sucked, you’re alive now though. Anyway, here we go!” He gestured at a small squad of cycles, all lined up and parked together. “Now, these girls don’t have fuel in the tanks--anti-theft measure, you understand--but apart from that, they’re all ready to go. Specs and prices on the tags. Anything specific you’re looking for?”

“Cross-country,” Blake replied. “Maneuverable through forests... maybe sand and ice traction, now that I think about it.”

“What, you planning a world tour?”

“Something like that.”

“In that case, you’ll want something with multiple gears. And a place to put a bag, if I’m reading you correctly. Lissee...” He started walking down the line. “No, no, no, hell no, how do you feel about sidecars?”

Blake considered for a moment. “...If we need room for more riders, I think an open trailer is better than a single chair.”

“So not that one, maybe this one, maybe, hmm... no, not that one, that’s a maybe, this is a maybe, maybe, maybe, may--”

“Wait.” Blake pointed. “What about that one?”

“Huh?” The man followed her finger. “Oh yeah! That’s a classic. I mean, you can get more power with later engines, but that model’s been around for a while. Heck, I think they even got some in Vale! You know, before the fall of Beacon.” He checked the tag. “And what do you know, this is a souped-up girl. Little less runtime between refuels, but turns like a bee.”

Blake nodded, putting a hand on the bar. “This one. Definitely.” She considered it. “Quick question: how much to have you paint it yellow?”

* * *

“What,” Blake teased, “not five stars?”

“He mistook me for one of my fans,” Weiss grumbled. “He called my scar  _fake!”_

“Hey, if your fan club is big enough to have a name...”

“Weissers. This wasn’t a thing back when I left... what on Remnant happened?” Weiss took in her grin and sighed. “Alright, alright, four and a half stars. But only because he was to the point!”

Blake’s amused hum caught in her throat when they turned the corner. There, waiting for them in front of their current residence, were Ruby and Yang. Yang had her arms crossed, but the glower on her face melted away when she saw what the two of them were rolling between them.

“...what?”

“I, uh...” Blake cleared her throat. “I... went shopping.” She let go of the bike’s handlebar, stepping aside. “After what happened, I thought... you know, since Bumblebee was important to you, that maybe--I mean, I don’t know if it was a gift, or...”

“You...” Yang stepped forward, hand reaching out. “You bought me a new bike.”

“Yes she did,” Weiss confirmed, backing up. “All her money. Not one Schnee-earned card.”

"Hold on, you just up and bought a motorcycle?” Ruby put her hands on her hips. “Have you been holding out on us?”

Blake rubbed the back of her head. “Well, when I told my parents I was coming with you, they... maaaaaaay have given me a small stipend of Lien to make a few purchases here and there... and, well, Menagerie might be a small place, but Dad is kind of the chieftain, so...”

“Well... alright,” Ruby said reluctantly. “I guess we can forgive you sneaking out without telling us this ONCE. I mean you remember when Oscar vanished? This was like, the same but worse! Seriously, we were worried sick!”

Weiss winced. “I suppose it was a little spur-of-the-moment.”

“Don’t do it again. Team order: If you want surprise gifts, you at LEAST say ‘I’m going out to get a surprise gift, don’t follow me.’” Ruby smiled. “That said, this is one great surprise, Blake, good thinking.”

Yang ran her hand over the handlebars gently. “I... wow. I thought it’d take a month or two, if we even had the time...” She looked up. “Thank you.”

“It’s... it’s nothing,” Blake managed. “I mean, after all you’ve done for me... It really doesn’t match up.”

Yang smiled gently. “It’s not about being even, Blake. It’s... this is perfect. I mean it.”

Blake smiled back. “Well... I try my best.”


End file.
